


Of Cupcakes and Chemistry

by Nic_H



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Teachers, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:56:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16922016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nic_H/pseuds/Nic_H
Summary: Teacher AU. Forced to take a year long medical leave after getting injured in a shoot-out, Hank asks Connor to substitute for a teacher at the Middle School he runs. There he meets the kind and caring English teacher Kara. Maybe he'll find a reason to stay longer than he has to.





	1. Of Coffees and Brownies

Dedicated to Cookie, Taylor and Emma.

 

* * *

 

Connor sat down heavily with a sigh. His leg was aching from the use and his shoulder flared in pain from an old wound that never healed properly. Every day he drew closer to an inevitable outcome he did not think would come so soon. An outcome he expected in his mid-fifties and not late twenties. Rolling his shoulder to alleviate the pain, Connor looked up towards the man sitting behind the desk.

 _Captain Fowler_ was perfectly inscribed on the nameplate, which also was perfectly placed on the corner of his desk. The captain stopped typing when he noticed he had his detective’s attention. Taking a breath and standing up, the captain collected a stack of papers and handed them to Connor. Leaning on the edge of the desk, Fowler folded his arms and looked Connor in the eye.

“I’m sorry son, but until you’re physically fit-“

Before he could finish the sentence Connor threw the stack of papers on the ground and stood up, grinding his teeth to hold back the grunt of pain.

“I _am_ fine, Sir. Just put me back out there and-“

Fowler got up from his relaxed position, and Connor felt immediate embarrassment for his outburst. This was no way to talk to his captain. _Fuck h_ _e was becoming more and more like Hank_.

“Damn it Connor, you can barely walk. How long’s it been? 3 weeks since you’ve been discharged from the hospital? It’ll only be a year. You’ll have your job back when you’re ready, I promise.”

After another heavy sit down, Connor breathed deep. One year. 52 weeks. 365 days. He could do this. He had no choice.

“And I know you son; you won’t last behind the desk. Cooped up in here watching others go out. I’ve been talking with Hank, and he’s got an idea. But only if you’re willing.”

Connor perked up at that. The first bit of good news. The last thing he wanted was to sit around and be useless for a year.

“That school your old man’s running. They’ve got a teacher taking her maternity leave. He says you could take her position for the time being. Put that Chemistry degree to some other use.”

For anyone else, Connor would offer more resistance. But this was his _dad_. The man who took him in when the people who birthed him (he would never call them parents) threw him away. He owed everything to him.

He dealt with psychotic criminals and dead bodies on a daily basis, how hard could it be to teach children?

“When do I start?

 

* * *

 

It had taken Connor 2 months to sort out his substitute teaching certificate, and in that time his leg felt no better. Nothing seemed to be working and the pain was getting near unbearable. Why did he have to get shot saving _Gavin_ of all people. He didn’t regret it, but if he was being honest there were more pleasant people he would rather take a bullet for (or three in this case).

Connor struggled in to his clothes for the day, just a simple white shirt and his favourite tie. He had done research on teaching children and had learnt that a full suit would not make him feel approachable. If he was going to teach the next generation, you can be damn sure he’s going to be the best teacher at the school.

The drive to the school wasn’t too bad from Connor’s modest apartment. Slight traffic, but it was expected at this time in the morning. Turning the volume up, Connor drowned himself in the heavy drums and guitar riffs, letting the music drown out his thoughts. He was _not_ nervous, just slightly… apprehensive. Yes, apprehensive was a good word for how he felt.

Rolling in to the staff parking, Connor spotted his dad’s car that should’ve died years ago and another. That was a good sign. If Connor could say with certainty about himself it was he was very punctual. It was good to know Hank had _some_ sense in his employment decisions.

Connor quickly made his way to the staff room, eager to make himself a coffee and introduce himself to his work colleagues. First impressions were important and he would rather not have a repeat of his first day at the precinct (those memories were locked away in a darkest recesses of his mind).

Expecting an empty room, or at least a sedated one, Connor was not prepared for the amount of _movement_ he could eye through the door’s window. Pushing open the door with slight hesitation, a voice immediately called out to him not even half way through the door.

“Welcome, welcome. It’s a pleasure to meet you. My names Kara. Miss Chapman to the students. I teach English and Home Economics.”

In his surprise, Connor had let go of the door and it slammed in to his injured leg. With a hiss and pained grunt, Connor shoved the door back open and bee-lined for the nearest chair.

“Fu- dge. I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were hurt. Are you okay?”

Connor waved away her concern but he knew the matter was not dropped. He could _smell_ the motherly concern coming from her.

“No it’s my fault, I’m still getting used to being half invalid. The names Connor, Connor Anderson. I’m subbing for Chemistry and Math.”

Reaching his hand forward, Connor grasped hers in firm hand shake. Straight away Connor took note of the softness of her hands and his brain went haywire. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks and strangely he felt self-conscious of the callouses on his hands gained from hours at the gun range. Though for reasons unknown, Connor felt delighted to notice she too had a light dusting of pink on her cheeks.

 _One day and I’m already losing it_. Recollecting himself, Connor let go of her hand and pushed himself up, heading straight towards the coffee maker. It was in his nature, not only as a detective (ex-detective), to take notice of minute details. The coffee maker was high end, and it was no surprise to Connor because ever since getting sober, Hank had replaced his alcoholic tendencies with a caffeine addiction.

Inexplicably Connor’s gaze was drawn to the only other occupant of the room.

Kara. Kara. Kara.

He let her name roll of his tongue silently and had to suppress a shiver at how natural it felt.

 _Fuck_.

Not trusting himself to hold a conversation with the admittedly beautiful teacher, Connor bid a quick farewell and hurried out the room as quick as he could, coffee in hand. Well that was the intention. Instead, Kara had moved to the door and opened it for him, and looking at him with such concern it made his heart flutter and Connor’s heart _did. Not. Flutter._

“If you need a hand with anything, don’t hesitate to ask. The Chem room is right next to the English room. We’re pretty much neighbours.”

Connor looked Kara in the eyes, noticing the kindness in her blue irises.

“Th-Thank you. It was nice meeting you.”

Once he had walked through the door and heard it click shut, Connor released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Embarrassment welled up in his stomach. He had stuttered! Countless interrogations, both in the field and in a cell, and not once did he make a fool of himself in front of a criminal. What was wrong with him?

Shoving away his thoughts, Connor walked to his new classroom. He had thought about going to Hank but they had already sorted out most issues the previous night and Connor really needed to plan his lesson. As he had thought earlier, first impressions were important.

 

* * *

 

With the ringing of the bell, Connor mentally prepared himself for the oncoming hellscape. The demonic vessels sat before him, curiosity alight in their unforgiving eyes. Maybe he was a little harsh, but not even 5 minutes since the first student walked in and Connor was already fed up with their incessant chattering.

Closing the door, Connor made his way to the whiteboard and wrote his name. Best get introductions over with so he could focus on the lesson.

“Morning class. I’m Mr. Anderson. Yes, before you ask, it's the same as Principal Anderson. I’ll be your new Chemistry and Math teacher for the foreseeable future. You know my name, now get ready for-”

Before Connor could finish his sentence there was a knock at the door, almost imperceptible over his voice.

“Come in.”

The door opened slowly and a wisp of a girl shyly walked in. Head down, shoulders hunched. She seemed to be trying to make herself as small as possible, which was pointless with the whole class’s attention on her. Her behaviour nagged something in the back of his mind but he dismissed the notion. Not enough evidence.

“So-sorry I’m late. I slept in.”

Her voice was soft, and with a hint of fear. Connor however, could detect the lie from a mile away. Usually he would be annoyed at her tardiness, but the strange need to _protect_ arose in his soul. Instead, Connor waved away her excuse and told her to take a seat.

“I’ll start again. My name’s Mr Anderson. Now, for the next few weeks we will be learning about the different elements, with extra focus on the first 20.”

After doing a roll call and putting names to faces Connor limped his way through the rows of desks, handing out sheets of paper with basic information to help the students along. He may be harsh but above all else he wanted his students to _succeed_. It took longer than he would’ve liked and his leg burned in protest but he ignored it. Turning around once at the front of the classroom, Connor noticed a student with a raised hand, eyes burning with a question.

“Yes, Alex?”

“Sir, why do you have a limp? Were you always a teacher? I heard you used to be detective, is that true?”

Connor sighed in annoyance. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. How did this student find out? Other students, on hearing this new information, buzzed in their seats. Any chemistry related thoughts were gone, now the only thoughts they had were on their mysterious new teacher.

“I don’t see how that relates to-“

“How many people have you arrested?”

“Do you have a gun? Can I see your gun?”

“Mr Anderson, are you Principal Anderson’s brother?”

“Don’t be stupid Ellie, look how young he is! It’s gotta be his Dad.”

Their voices blurred together in a cacophonic ocean and Connor was drowning.

Deep breaths.

In. Out. In. Out.

“Quiet!”

Though not a yell, Connor had a way of projecting his voice loudly; a skill learned from countless interrogations.

“We aren’t here to learn about me, we’re here to learn about Chemistry. Now-“

Connor was interrupted once again. Did these children not know respect? The least they could do was at least raise their hand before piping up.

“But Sir, that’s not fair. It’s our first day! Mrs Janssen let us do proper introductions.”

At wits end, Connor didn’t have the effort to deny the student. At this point he would do anything to get them to shut up for a few minutes. His brain was so frazzled he couldn’t even remember the student’s name. Remembering things was his bread and butter.

“Fine. One question each, that’s it. And don’t get upset if I don’t answer yours because it’s a stupid question. After that, then we get back to what you’re all actually here for. Deal?”

Instantly the noise died down, and every single student but one had their hand raised. Slowly Connor went through each student, starting with clipped, one worded answers. As each question was asked, Connor slowly added more and more detail until he was telling anecdotes about his dog without being prompted. The entire time the students listened intently, not one interrupting the other or himself; all eager to learn more about him.

He did have to deny some questions such as ‘how many people have you killed’ because the question brought memories he’d rather not think about. The words ‘far too many’ came to mind (he knew the exact number. It replayed in his head every night as he lay sleepless in bed).

Time passed quickly and by the time he answered the last student's question it was already nearing the end of the lesson.

“Ok class, lets wrap it up. Just read over the notes I gave you and we’ll discuss the noble gasses next lesson. I’ll see you all at the end of the day for math. And there will be _no_ introductions.”

Dismissing the class, Connor watched as they raced out the door. A few were brave enough to wave good bye to him but most left without a word. From the corner of his eye, Connor noticed the girl that was late loitering around. He watched her get off her chair with slow, measured steps and make her way towards him.

Pulling the sleeves of her jumper further down her arms, the girl finally looked up at him and Connor’s heart broke at the hidden pain in her chocolate brown eyes.

“Mr Anderson, Sir. I have one question. Do you always catch the bad guys?”

Eyes softening, Connor lowered his voice and crouched down to her eye level, supressing a grunt of pain.

“We try to Alice. We really do try and I really wish we could. But sometimes bad people slip through the cracks.”

Alice nodded slowly and mumbled a half-hearted ‘thank-you’ before leaving Connor alone in the class room. Something was up with that girl, and Connor dreaded to find out what but knew it was his duty; not only as an ex-detective who swore to protect the innocent, but also as a teacher looking out for his students.

 

* * *

 

Glancing at the clock, Connor felt as if time was mocking him. He was just as eager for school to end as the students. 6 hours. 6 brutal hours. 6 hours of rambunctious students. 6 hours of _fucking_ introductions because who knew middle school kids gossiped more than a police precinct.

The only relief was his lunch break but even then he could barely contain himself around the attractive English teacher. Though he did have a good conversation with the art teacher, Markus (the name seemed familiar but he couldn't recall why). The man had strong convictions and it was interesting talking to someone who had such different views than him.

Connor sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs, enjoying the quiet classroom. He had taught them the concept and now they were working on the equations in their math book. Occasionally a student would come up and ask for help (there was no way he would be walking to each desk), but they were few and far between.

His blissful respite was broken by the opening of the door. Annoyance turned to bashfulness as he noticed who had walked in.

Kara. Flushed cheeks, hair put up in a messy bun, fringe slightly tousled and flour dusting her apron. Connor was in love.

Waltzing across the front of the class, every student collectively stopped what they were doing. Stopping only to smile at Alice, Kara placed a plate on Connor’s desk. On the plate was the single most mouth-watering brownie slice Connor had ever seen.

“I’m sorry about earlier, with the whole door thing. We made brownies in Home Ec, and I thought I’d make you a slice,” she smiled brightly at Connor, “I Hope you’re first day has been alright.”

Trying, and failing, to hide his blush Connor graciously accepted her gift.

“Thank you Miss Chapman. It’s been quite the experience so far.”

Eyes lighting up in happiness, she turned to look at the class. Like a pin drop, every student gave her their immediate attention. _How did she just do that?_

“Cut him some slack and give Mr Anderson a chance, it’s his first day teaching.”

Like obedient soldiers, every student gave a firm nod; some so enthusiastic Connor wondered how their head was still attached to their neck. After confirming their response, Kara left the classroom almost as quick as she entered, waving a good bye to Connor and giving another smile to Alice.

For five minutes there was a stone cold silence after the door clicked shut. Every single student was staring at their teacher, who was still staring at the door with glazed eyes. The silence was finally broken when one student voiced what everyone was thinking.

“Damn, Mr Anderson. That was some… chemistry.”

Connor rubbed his temples with his hands. _Give me strength_. He wasn’t even teaching chemistry right now.

 “Alex was it? Detention.”

END


	2. Of Staff Meetings and Students

Dedicated to Cookie, Taylor and Emma.

 

* * *

 

It had been a week since Connor had started his teaching gig and he _hated_ how much he was enjoying it. Sure the kids were little shits half the time, didn’t listen to him the other half and wouldn’t shut up about memes. Apparently ‘TikTok’ wasn’t just the sound a clock made. But the small moments of undivided attention, the quiet ‘thanks’ given on the way out and of course, the moments with _Kara_ more than made up for it.

Connor had to forcibly admit to himself that, _yes_ , he did have a slight infatuation with the English teacher. How could he not? She was… _Kara_. Miss Chapman, if he was being professional (and Connor prided himself on his professionalism).

Currently, Connor was lounging in the staff room, fresh cup of coffee still warm in his hand. He was going over the latest quiz he had given his students, getting tired of the ‘tick’ to ‘x’ ratio. He wasn’t mad just, disappointed. This was _simple_ chemistry. How we’re they failing? Was it his teaching skills? _No, it’s the children who are wrong_.

Fuck. This place was making him crazy already.

Like clockwork, Kara came in through the door just shy of 8 o’clock. From here Connor knew her morning routine down to the last detail. First, she’d greet him good morning, then head straight to the coffee maker and make idle chatter with him while she waited. After it was brewed she’d take a sip, yelp in pain because it was too hot and then go sit down and relax for a few minutes.

Every morning it was the same. It never changed.

How Connor knew all this? Well it was because he was _observant_ and most definitely _not_ a stalker.

Connor’s preconceived scenario, however, went tumbling down when he took a good look at Kara. Hair dishevelled; it looked like she had stayed up all night drinking coffee to substitute a much needed rest. His worry doubled when she forewent the coffee machine to sit right down next to him.

“Morning Kara. Are you okay?”

She sighed deeply, as if she was trying to exhale all her worries at once. It hardly looked to help.

“No, not really,” Kara finally looked Connor in the eye before continuing, “I’m worried Connor.”

She took another deep breath and Connor, with uncharacteristic bravery, reached his hands over the table. Without hesitation Kara’s met his halfway. Hands entwined, Connor hoped he was providing some semblance of comfort.

“Have you noticed anything…  unusual about Alice? Anything that just seems off?”

Connor’s thumbs stilled, no longer drawing soothing circles on the backs of Kara’s hand.

“I.. _yes_. She always seems so-“

The rest of his words were cut off by the clicking of the door handle, and both Connor and Kara jumped in alarm; hands returning to their sides.

Flushed, Kara swept a loose strand of hair behind her hair to hide her blush while Connor stared absentmindedly at the ceiling, suddenly very interested in the off white colouring.

The door fully opened, Luther walking in with a smile that was ever present on his face. Connor recalled he was the special education teacher and the substitute teacher had a great amount of respect for the man. Anyone who had the patience and the caring heart to undertake such an important role was a good human in his books.

The giant man took a seat opposite Connor, the chair looking comically small compared to his large frame. He waved a greeting to Kara, but refrained from engaging in conversation. Luther had a sixth sense when it came to social interactions. He understood the need to speak just as much as the need to remain silent.

Still feeling the remnants of his previous act of social bravery, Connor decided to strike up conversation.

“Good morning, Mr Andronikov.”

Ok, so he still had some ways to go but Connor was _improving_.

Luther put down the papers he was reading and addressed Connor directly.

“To you also. But please, call me Luther. Mr Andronikov was my father, and you of all people know very well the kind of man he was.”

The entire time, Luther did not take any offence. He did not seem angered, never dropping from his usual soft spoken tone. Connor, however, felt like an idiot. An imbecile. For someone who prided himself on his attention to detail, how had he not made the connection? He and North were the ones who put that sick fuck behind bars.

Stuttering, Connor tried expressing his regret through his gaze.

“Oh, I apologise if I caused offence. I-“

Luther interrupted him before he made more of a fool of himself.

“No need to apologise, I am not my father. At least, I try not to be.”

With the initial embarrassment out the way, the two fell in to surprisingly easy conversation. More and more teachers showed up as the minutes ticked by, but Connor paid them little notice, interested in learning more from Luther. By the time the first bell signalled for the teachers to head to their respective classes, Connor could say that he no longer had the ability to count his friends on one hand (only if you included Sumo, which Connor did. Because Sumo).

 

* * *

 

The morning progressed as a morning tended to do; that is very slowly. Being a Monday, the demon spawn were extra restless and Connor took back every good thing he had said about teaching. It sucked worse than Gavin did at Mario Kart. And boy was that man on another level of trash at that game.

Throughout his lesson, Connor paid extra attention to Alice. Once again she seemed to curl in on herself, as if to hide herself from unwanted eyes. Suspicion rising, Connor knew better than to bring it up with the child. First he needed to establish a relationship with her. Become someone she could trust. Someone she could turn to when the time arose.

One week in and Connor was already looking to adopt the cinnamon roll.

Connor trudged through the next set of elements the students had to learn in greater detail, going over their atomic value, the number of protons, electrons and neutrons. After reviewing the quizzes, Connor had ashamedly ‘dumbed down’ his lesson plan. No way were these kids ready to learn about covalent bonds and energy to mass conversions.

Just this lesson he’d had to stop no less than three incidents with stupidity levels he had only seen in one Gavin Reed. Who raised these satanic beings? Actually it was more like who raised this one satanic being in particular?

_Yes I do know the chemical formula for Red Ice._

_No I will not tell you the chemical formula for Red Ice._

_Alex stop asking me to teach you how to make Red Ice._

It wasn’t till lunch break that Connor could catch his breath and find Kara to continue their conversation. It had plagued his mind all morning, and Connor had a very good hunch as to what Kara was alluding to. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think that humanity was so depraved. He was no stranger to how far human decency could fall.

He had witnessed truly horrifying scenes that still haunted his dreams. Witnessed families unnecessarily torn apart. Too many times he had knocked on the front doors of unaware parents. Not with greetings of “Good evening, how are you?” but with “I’m so sorry, but can we sit down and talk?”

Connor continued to let his dark thoughts run wild, only shaking them when he quite literally walked right in to the person he was looking for. His quick reflexes stopped not only him from falling, but managing to catch Kara before she fell too.

Hands lingering around her waist and bodies far too close to be considered professional, neither had any intention of moving. A cough, originating from neither the two, broke them out of their stupor and for the second time today they jumped away from each other.

Turning around quickly, Connor eyed the student who had made the sound.

_Mother. Fucking. Alex_

Connor could already imagine the shit storm of gossip that’d be the focus of his next class. He death-stared the little hellion until Alex ran off, pale faced and fearful. Good to know he hadn’t gone _too_ soft.

Returning to the matter at hand, Connor followed Kara towards her classroom for a bit of privacy. Once entering the room, Connor leant against the wall as Kara paced back and forth in front of her desk. Seemingly collecting her thoughts, she stopped suddenly and whipped around to face him.

“There’s no easy way of putting this. I think Alice is getting abused.”

Connor didn’t let any outward emotion show, but inside he felt his heart sink. They both had come to the same conclusion. Though deep down he had known early on, he had been in denial because her circumstances brought out old memories he had buried long ago; he did not want the ghosts of the past to haunt him once more.

Shoving aside his demons, Connor focused on Alice. That’s what mattered. That’s _who_ mattered. He could deal with his own problems later. Throw them under the rug and try to forget like he always did. It worked so far (with mixed results).

“I think so too, Kara. I’ve seen the signs before,” Connor stood up from his relaxed position and made his way towards her, “I didn’t want to believe it but I, no we, can no longer deny the truth.”

Wasting no time the two discussed their thoughts, talked over their potential evidence and wondered the best course of action to help Alice. All the while remaining within close proximity, never straying too far from the other’s presence.

With the end of lunch break fast approaching, Connor and Kara both took a break from talking; appreciating each other’s company in silence. It was ironic. Connor had been forcibly removed from his job as a detective and now he was doing just that. Trying to solve a case. But it was a case that held personal meaning to him. He knew what it was like. Knew how Alice felt. And he most certainly knew that no child deserved to go through that, least of all one as kind and caring as her.

Connor hadn’t made any promises, but he did tell Kara the possibility of calling in a favour from his old partner. It did mean he’d owe North a favour but whatever inane request she would ask as payment, it mattered little in the grand scheme of things. Kara herself had promised to keep doing what she had been doing for the past few months; being the motherly figure that Alice so desperately needed.

After exchanging numbers (not how Connor imagined he’d get it), they promised to keep in touch if anything came up. Connor was about to bid farewell when he took note of Kara. He could see the inner turmoil she was experiencing and wanted nothing more than to hold her and tell her it would all be okay. But he couldn’t. Couldn’t ensure a promise like that. Couldn’t promise that things _would_ be fine. Instead, he tentatively put his arms around her shoulders, lightly squeezing her in an embrace to convey his support.

It may have been a bit forward, considering they had only met recently. But ever since the start, Connor had felt this _connection_ between them; an instant spark of _something_ that could grow to be far more than work colleagues.

Connor wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, but Kara was making him a believer with every passing day.

END.

 


End file.
